Nature rarer uses yellow
Than another hue;
Saves she all of that for sunsets,--
Prodigal of blue,
Spending scarlet like a woman,
Yellow she affords
Only scantly and selectly,
Like a lover's words.
The photo above is untouched, taken several years ago with a cheap, ancient camera, en route to Vancouver. This photo used to stand watch whenever my computer slept. Sometimes when the M&A lawyers called, I'd click away from the piles of PDF due diligence long enough to steal a glance. It was my "serenity now" when I sat hours on end in an ergonomic roller chair.
These days, I find more and more of these moments in real life. I don't have to stare at a screen to see them. Like this morning, when I ran under a moon so bright it cast my bundled shadow onto the pavement. I ran past Halloween remnants of a sheeted ghost and picked up the pace when the peripheral glances at the fire hydrant flags made me wonder if it was actually the face of a skinny person poised to yell "boo!". Then the sun set off yellow flares on the horizon to announce its arrival, and the bare branches turned into the claws of a black cat against the brightening sky.
These are moments so majestic they need no editing, no adjustment. The master Artist has already seen to everything. So effortless, He could do it in His sleep, if indeed, He ever slept.
I'm not sure I can agree with Emily, at least on this one point. Nature doesn't seem to be hoarding yellow anymore. In fact, she's outright licentious with these golden splays. And I love her for it.
As for the other Emily, the host of Tuesdays Unwrapped at Chatting at the Sky, I couldn't agree more with her encouragement to find gifts in the messy, lovely and unexpected. This week, I'm celebrating nature's generosity with yellow and the gift of seeing it firsthand.